


Underestimating Molly Weasley

by KatydidWrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Female-Centric, Gen, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5545505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatydidWrites/pseuds/KatydidWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five months after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermoine Granger-- along with many of her classmates-- is working to rebuild her school and her life. She's also doing her best to avoid a heart-to-heart with Molly Weasley, but she can't succeed forever. A sad but hopeful little oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underestimating Molly Weasley

Hermoine Granger was in the library, researching spells to repair the outer wards. Five months after the Battle of Hogwarts, some gaps still remained. The castle’s ability to heal itself was astonishing, but not limitless.

The library itself finally looked as it always had, the very image of the room she’d fallen in love with as a first year. McGonagall had left her in charge of that project, let her organize its many stages, working slowly and methodically. First, the removal of the debris. Then, the scouring of the soot (and she had not, she had not thought too hard of what that soot had been before—pages of priceless knowledge, or something else). Then the raising of the shelves, repair of the long scarred tables, conjuring of new chairs to match the remaining few. Then, and only then, came the time to find and catalog and return each volume to its proper place. 

So here it was, early October, and Hermoine was moving slowly but steadily though a stack of the oldest grimoires Hogwarts had to offer on its own founding. There’s no way that the school will be able to open in a year if the wards are not intact, and the deadline of next year is what they’re all working towards.

She almost lost her place when a nervous “Hello, dear” sounded in front of her.

“Molly?” Yes, it was Mrs. Weasley, and there was no Madam Pince at the desk to shush her. Hermoine felt something twist in the region of her stomach.

“Sorry to startle you, dear. I was hoping we could have a chat.”  
The angle of the sun streaming through the windows was quite a bit lower than Hermoine had been expecting—where had the afternoon gone? “Oh, I’m sorry, I had no idea it was so late! I really must dash. Give—give my best to Ron when you see him, of course that’s why you’re here. I expect he’s out on the grounds.” And then she was gone.

\-----

The next Tuesday evening, Hermoine was at Hagrid’s cabin with a large mug of tea in front of her, wishing for something a little stronger. It felt strange to be here without the boys—but Harry, of course, was in Romania, and she and Ron had settled into a careful routine of avoidance outside of their rebuilding work. To Hagrid’s quiet dismay. 

It wouldn’t last forever, of course. She just needed some time. How much time, Hermoine wasn’t sure—she’d never had to rebuild a friendship with her best friend turned boyfriend turned ex. The books she had consulted on the subject were singularly unhelpful.

Hagrid was giving her a detailed update on the recovery of various creature populations in the Forbidden Forest, while she attempted to show some enthusiasm. Then a knock sounded on the door.

“’Ere, who’s that then?” Hagrid asked, somewhat theatrically. Hermoine noted that her hand was already on her wand, and willed her fingers to relax a bit as he pulled the door open. “Why, it’s Molly! ‘Ow are you? I’d get you some tea, but—er—well, I’d forgot something, and I’d best go and do it. “Ermoine, why don’t you get Molly some tea?”

And then he was gone, the traitor. Hermone wrapped her fingers tighter around the tea and wished harder that it contained firewhiskey.

Molly sat down across from her and poured herself a cup. “Now, dear, I’m sorry for getting Hagrid involved, but I couldn’t figure out a better way to see you—unsubtle as he is.”

Hermoine snorted. “I thought he was being a little skittish earlier. Now at least I know he hasn’t found any new monsters in the forest.” Small use being the brightest witch of her age, if she couldn’t use to to get out of this conversation. She looked longingly at the door. Now, if she used a wandless spell as a diversion…

“Hermoine, why haven’t I seen you at the Burrow in months?”

She hadn’t expected Molly to cut to the chase so directly. Was it possible she didn’t know? “Molly, I—I broke up with Ron. More than a month ago.”

“Well, yes, but that’s no excuse. If it’s really so hard for you to be around him at all, you can come visit while he’s working.”

“But—Molly, this isn’t just a break, or something. I broke up with him. I hurt him. You don’t have to pretend you want me around anymore.” 

“Pretend—Hermoine Jean Granger what on earth have you been thinking?”

Hermoine blinked. This wasn’t how she’d thought it would go. But, she’d been asked to explain her thought process, so…

“Let’s be honest—you made a place for me at the Burrow, alongside Harry, but the two of us have always clashed.” Why couldn’t Molly be hunting Harry down, in Romania, instead of cornering her in Hagrid’s cottage? “And you’ve always been kind—and generous—“ It wasn’t till she’d broken up with Ron that Hermoine had realized exactly how true that was, and how much she’d be losing. “But you also always wanted me and Ron to be together, and now it’s clear—I love him, I really do, but we make each other crazy. It’ll never work. I want it to, but it just doesn’t work. So please, even though you wanted us to be together, you have to let it go.”

“I never wanted you two to be together.”

Hermoine stared at her, shocked. 

“Dear, I wanted you two to be happy. And if you can’t be happy together, then I want you to be happy apart. Because you’re both my children, no matter what. Even—“ and Molly’s brown eyes were crinkled around the corners now, like she was trying hard not to laugh at the dumbfounded girl in front of her—“even when we clash. You think Ginny and I don’t snipe at each other, or have screaming rows sometimes? But I need all—all—I need all of my children at home, now. When you have time to visit.”

And all of a sudden, Hermoine was fighting not to cry. “That’s— if I’m honest, that’s the other reason I haven’t been round for tea. It’s too hard to look at the clock, at Fred’s name. And I keep thinking, if I, if I—“

Hermoine almost stopped there, but Molly was leaning forward in her chair, and she owed the truth to this woman she’d misjudged so badly. And when had she gotten so caught up in herself that she’d started underestimating Molly Weasley, of all people? That wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all. “I keep thinking, if I had figured everything out sooner—Voldemort, and the Horcruxes, all of that—if I’d figured it out sooner, Fred could still be alive.”

There, she’d said it. And now they were both crying. 

“Oh, my girl, that’s not true. You did so much. We didn’t—listen. I need you to listen, Hermoine.”

And she did.

“We started this war. Before you were born, and when you were just a baby, we were fighting it. And we meant to finish the fight, to leave the world safe for you to grow up in. But we didn’t manage it. We failed you, and we failed you again when we let you children—you brave beautiful children—take on so much of that fight yourselves. It should never have happened this way. So you need to listen to me, and stop blaming yourself, and for God’s sake come to the Burrow on Sunday for tea, or so help me Hermoine Jean Granger, I will send you the kind of Howler you’ve never heard before.” 

By this point Hermoine wasn’t sure if she was laughing, or crying, and she didn’t much care. “Alright,” she said. “Alright, I surrender. I’ll be there.”

“Was that so hard?”

“No,” said Hermoine. “I guess not.”


End file.
